But an emptied discourse on violence,
Deranged ways at a repulsive killing
Is a warped pursuit of Indolence.
Wasted lives on a famished endeavor
While their land has a 17 trillion debt,
Their time, gifted skills are held over
By a sickened endeavor on ways of Death.
A culture that breeds such psychotic people
In time reap disgust and due ridicule,
For nations will rise and will be able
To enslave these insolent little fools.
When wrong is upheld and unduly admired
Their empires collapse and then go barren,
A cursed lot they will sink in the mire
Of the lost and impoverished, the forsaken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem